Today all of the liberal (read: sensible) people are a little verklempt. It's sometimes hard to fathom how the working masses consistently vote against their own best interests. They have been duped into thinking that any tax is bad. Our flag-waving, tea-partying citizens must somehow believe that little fairies come out at night and fix the potholes in the road, or that the public school system is staffed by volunteers. (It almost feels that way due to the continued undervaluing of our educators in this country.) On the bright side: Dino Rossi became a three-time loser. What's next for Dino? There are so many options on the horizon. I'm sure he could be a guaranteed loser at most anything if he put his mind to it.
I finished reading Steve E. Landsburg's Big Questions, which ended up irritating more than educating me. It certainly was the wrong book to start reading during my long weekend. I have already started reading Tom Franklin's latest novel, Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, and it's the kind of book that makes you consider calling in sick to work to finish. I'm already running in the negative in both sick days and vacation time, so that's out of the question for me.
For whatever reason, probably none, I have been listening to a lot of Grateful Dead recently. I've discovered some of their live stuff that has been released over the last decade, some of it dating back to 1967, and I'm quite enjoying it. I was never a Deadhead. In fact, I only saw them live once, (plus I saw Jerry Garcia on tour with his own band.) I watched them sitting next to a die-hard Deadhead, and he was carping the whole time that the previous night's show in Hartford was much better. In the meantime, he's taping the show, and jotting the down the song list. Now that Jerry is dead and gone, I still enjoy listening to his meandering and melodic style of guitar playing.
Even though I am tempted to stay up until four in the morning, watching a movie, I am going to give into good sense and turn in. I still have a few items in storage at my previous residence, such as my bicycle and my collection of movie posters from the 1970s. You know, precious stuff. It would probably be a good idea to clean out my possessions from the old homestead for good. Lucky for me, I am renting a house with a garage, which easily fits all of my unnecessary crap.